


Lesson Plan

by Verdant_Mercury



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blindfolds, Do Not Archive, Light Bondage, Misuse of Beholding Powers, Other, Teasing, Temperature Play, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-27 06:11:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15679596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verdant_Mercury/pseuds/Verdant_Mercury
Summary: When Elias remarks on the possibilities of a lesson in Beholding, with a side note of a threat well it's not like Jon has a choice now, does he? He accepts.





	Lesson Plan

The chair had made sense, even the blindfold if he thought about it long enough. A lot of things could be explained away and Jon was an adept than that. One only had to listen to the closing remarks on any of his earlier statement and you'd find his denial. This, however, was nothing something easily explained, as were most things when it came to Elias. Even denial could be a fickle thing when faced with an admitted murderer. It was unwise to tempt danger, a lesson learned with every new scar and experience.

When the silk ties came into play, Jon recalled just how pleased Elias was when Jon first tried to compel him. The whole situation said a lot with how far he had come with accepting how strange things had to happen to him. At least it wasn’t another kidnapping. He'd had enough of those, for now, thank you.

  
To be blind and trusting towards an admitted murderer was not a good idea, but it was likely that Elias didn't want him dead. Well, not yet anyway. Seduction by his boss would’ve sat low on a list of strange things that happened to him if he decided to even try keeping a list. Well, it would be minimal if not for the murders and entities that influenced them both

So when the chair came up, Jon sat. When the blindfold was offered, he took it with some mild trepidation. When the silk ties came out, Jon started to question what this lesson would entail. The promise of a phrase that sounded suspiciously like a safe word was offered to him as if there was an expectation that something _here_ would get to be too much for him.

It was only natural for Jon to question exactly how things had gotten to this. The knots were tied binding his wrist to the chair. Elias was mindful of his still tender hand as the green silks were put to use.

Jon pulled at the ties, testing. It was a normal response to start to wonder if he didn’t injure his head somewhere. It was at that moment that Elias decided to brush his fingers against his bound wrist. Jon was aware. In fact, he was more than aware of his other senses with his lack of sight. The smell of Elias' office. The books, faint air freshener and something spicy? It came and went, but with a subtlety that didn't matter until he was without his sight.

There was the press of the chair under his arms, the cushion of the seat and the wide arms of the chair. He pulled against the silk that slid against his skin as he shifted around. The sheer incredulity of the situation still caused more than a little musing on his part.

“Have I ever said you are surprisingly easy to read? Your face doesn’t hide things well, Jon.” Coupled with his words, Elias' nails scraped against Jon's skin lightly. Goosebumps trailed up his arm.

“This shade of green suits you well, Jon. Vibrant and deep. You should wear it more often.” The hand drifted up his arm, to his shoulder. It lingered by his collarbone before he moved up to his face, and cupped his cheek. His hand remained there before it trailed down to Jon's chin and urged Jon to lift his face as if Elias wished to inspect without Jon being able to look right back.

“You’re going to need to concentrate, Jon. I can do some of the work here, but if you’re going to get better with experiencing you must practice. You understand emotion. That much is already clear but you lack sensitivity. Focus on me, the sensations. Forget yourself. Your body is nothing but a tool to see with, to feel with.” Elias pushed his thumb against Jon’s lower lip. He kept it there for a few heartbeats, then pressed down until Jon allowed his mouth to open.

“Do you do this with every Archivist?” The compulsion dripped from his mouth. It felt strange to speak against Elias' thumb.

Elias hummed a soft sound. An appreciative sound. Elias dipped his thumb forward into his mouth. It was the smallest of movement as Elias started to smear Jon's own saliva along his lips.

“No.” Elias’ grip tightened against his chin for a moment before he let go.

He heard Elias step away. His dress shoes tapped against the hardwood floor. Jon's strained his ears as he heard ice rattle around a glass as Elias returned. The chair creaked as he sat down across from him.

“I’m going to press ice against my right hand. Focus on me. Breathe deep and let yourself go. Your goal Jon is to Jon feel it as I do.” The command is clear.

He heard the glass being put down, another clack from the ice within.

Even with the blindfold, Jon closed his eyes. He pressed his mouth together and tried to reach out. There were the barest hints of something. Every time he tried to reach out, to do anything it would slip out of his grasp. This trend continued. It could have been minutes or hours. It made no difference to how vexed it felt to almost have it and then _not_.

The hairs on the back of his neck raised. The response he felt when he recorded his statements. Watchful. It felt more keen, sharper even. There was something more to it. Jon's eyebrows furrowed in concentration. There were the faintest tendrils of something. Jon tried to latch onto it. It slipped and floated away and force was apparently _not_ the way to go about this. It felt thin as thread, but light as air. He could see it in his mind's eye, floating above them and utterly invisible to anyone else. It wasn’t actually there, of course, but it felt as real as anything else.

Jon started to imagine his own thoughts as those very same tendrils, floating and twisting in the air. He reached out to intertwine, to tangle them together. A few times it slipped. It had almost escaped his grasp more than once but he pushed himself further. He caught his lower lip between his teeth.

Elias let out a quiet sigh.

His palm started to feel the slightest hints of cold. It was as if he had held his hand over something so frozen it radiated the chill. The dual sensations of wood already warmed under his palm and the cold almost caused him to falter. The clarity of both became muted as he struggled to tangle the twine together again. He let out a shuddered breath as his mind felt again.

“That’s it, Jon. You’re doing quite well. I will be moving it up to my wrist. Keep up now.”

True to his word, the sensation moved further up his palm and to his wrist. It pressed against the veins and stopped there. Jon let out another quiet breath as the silk and wood against his wrist was overtaken by the chill of the ice. It started to drift around in a lazy circle. The coolness of the melted water ghosted down his wrist even while his own wrist angled down. The chill lessened at his wrist as the ice clacked together and against the glass. Another piece picked up. Jon’s own fingers felt numb under the cold.

“Very good.” Elias praised.

Jon’s shiver had nothing to do with words. In fact, it was all attributed to the sudden press of ice against his neck and certainly not anything else. Elias chuckled. Jon sucked in a breath and let his neck dip to one side. It was a small movement. Water dripped down to his collarbone. Jon’s head started to tip back as the ice traveled up further up his neck to his jaw.

“Really, Jon. Nothing else comes to mind beyond it’s just the cold?” Elias sounded far too innocuous for what he was doing. He had to know exactly what he was doing, right?

“Denial doesn’t suit you."

The cold slid along his jaw in an almost teasing manner before it traveled up to his right cheek. The sensations of wet skin and water droplets lingered wherever the ice touched. It traveled down his neck and face even though Jon knew his own was dry. He sucked in a quiet breath that was not at all shaky. More goosebumps raised under the ministrations that Elias had done to himself. The ice was changed out for another again.

“Allow yourself to revel in it, Jon. This is an experience few ever get to have.”

He didn’t get the chance to reply as the ice pressed against his lips. Jon jerked back from the sudden shock of it. It changed nothing. The ice pressed against his mouth, around his lips. Jon was feeling Elias press ice to his mouth. He sucked in another shaky breath. It traced along his upper lip slowly and paused more than once to allow the water to slide down his face. He repeated the same motions with his lower lip. Jon bit back the urge to groan.

He then felt the coldness press against around his lips, a ring of cold as if ready to suck on the ice. Jon's knuckles grew white with how hard he gripped the chair. The chill met the tip of his tongue. Jon’s mouth parted for the next anticipated sensation.

Then, it was taken away. The chill on his fingers remained but the anticipation was cut off as quickly as it started. _What?_

“Right then. I think that was a rather productive session. Don’t you think, Jon?” The ice was dropped back into the glass with a clatter that resounded quite loudly in the office, much louder than ice had any right to be.

“I, uh-” Jon blinked behind the blindfold. “What?” Jon did not sound breathless at all. Definitely not.

The chair creaked across from him. A leg pressed up against his own, and the floor creaked to his right. Elias had stepped closer. His fingers were still cold and damp as Elias placed a hand against Jon’s own as if to untie him. Water dripped onto his skin again but he knew. It was actually wet this time and not the muted sensation of it. Elias plucked at the silk idly and then stilled. Chilled fingers started to warm up against his skin.

“Unless you would like to continue this?”

“I-” Jon’s voice sounded a bit high. He stopped and cleared his throat. “No, no. It's fine.” Jon lowered his head. "That was-" Another attempt to clear his throat. "-It was fine. Is fine."

“Use your words, Jon.” Elias gripped Jon’s wrist in a loose grasp. Elias began to tap against his wrist, waiting.

“I-I would like to continue this.” A moment passed. Whatever this was, and whatever it was going to become.

“Come now, Jon. Manners.”

“...Please?” The question couldn't be kept from his voice.

“Now say it all together.”

“Can we continue with this lesson." Jon paused before he added the next part, almost an afterthought. "Please.”

Elias trailed his fingers along his skin for a few seconds longer.

“Since you asked so nicely then, yes.” Elias still didn’t move away. Even without his sight, Jon was no stranger to the sensation of being watched. It was more akin to an old friend. It was a sensation that was unwanted most of the time but only most.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried. Does Jon's powers work like this? Who knows? Not me.


End file.
